Dredd turned as he heard her behind him, paused and drew his shirt down over the flat plane of his belly.
“You on today, Hershey?”
“I’m on. They gave me an option day after—after that Red Quad fracas…”
“And you didn’t take it.” Dredd’s expression didn’t change, but he nodded his approval.
“I think it’s better if you just keep doing what you do,” she said.
“You thought right.”
He picked up his helmet and closed his locker. They walked together out of the room. Cadet Olmeyer had one foot up on a bench, polishing his boot. He stared at the pair, wondering if he ought to come to attention, say something, keep his mouth shut or what. By the time he decided, Dredd and Hershey were gone.
“I caught your lecture today,” Hershey said.
“Good.”
“You, uh, laid it on pretty thick, Judge.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that.”
Hershey let out a breath. He’s impossible. He thinks it’s a compliment!
“What I’m saying is, I wonder… do you really think that’s what the Cadets need to hear?”
Dredd glanced at her. “I told the truth. What do you think I should tell them?”
“The truth is fine, I’m not arguing that. It’s just… you made it sound as if their lives are practically over, and these people haven’t even started.”
Dredd looked straight ahead. They were walking down the rampway toward the Lawmaster tunnel.
“The life they came from is over. They’re Judge Cadets.”
“Which means what? You toss everything out but that? I’m a Judge, and I think I’m a good one. But I still have a personal life, too. I have things I like to do. I have friends…”
“When did you see them last?”
“What?”
Dredd stopped. His dark eyes seemed to look right through her. “These friends, Hershey. When did you see them? What did you do?”
Hershey felt the color rise to her face. “Okay, it’s been awhile. My shifts keep changing a lot. It’s hard to stay in touch, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to see anybody. And I will, when things settle down.”
“Things won’t,” Dredd said.
“Maybe not for you. I don’t think you want things to slow down…”
She was sorry as soon as she said it. If he heard her, though, if he cared, he didn’t let it show.
“You’ve only been on the street a year,” he told her. “You’re still a Citz-head. You’ll get over it. You’ll be a Judge.”
“I am a Judge, damn it!” Hershey turned on him. “I’m a Judge right now. And I don’t care for that name, either.”
“What name is that?”
“You know exactly what I mean. Citz-head. The word makes it sound like Citizens are in a… a different class, or something. They’re the people we’re supposed to protect, Dredd.”
“Exactly. We have to protect them because they won’t take the responsibility for themselves. They don’t have to do anything. They can be as ignorant and as irrational as they want. They can make mistakes because we’re there to look after them. We can’t let what we might want to do interfere with what we have to do, Hershey. Anyone who doesn’t understand that doesn’t have what it takes to be a Judge.”
Hershey reached out and stopped him, touched his arm and turned him around.
“Is that really how you feel—it’s just you out there, you against them? Don’t you ever feel like… haven’t you ever had someone you felt close to? Have you ever had anyone you could call a friend?”
“Yes. Once.”
“What happened?”
She saw it, then, just for an instant, a shadow of pain across his features and then it was gone. Dredd turned quickly and walked away. She felt it, knew it at once, as if he’d spoken the words aloud. That’s how it had happened. He’d had a friend, and he’d had to decide between friendship and the vow he’d taken to uphold the Law. It had been an agonizing decision, even for a man as dedicated as Dredd. In the end, he had judged his friend. Kept his vow and lost his soul. Shut it all out and left himself hollow inside.
Why did I have to ask, Hershey thought, why the hell couldn’t I leave him alone!
“Dredd, wait a minute, please!” She ran to catch up with him. He stalked through the doorway into the tunnel, into the thunder of a hundred growling machines.
“I’m sorry,” she said, reaching his side. “I didn’t have any business asking you something like that. Your life is your own, and I had no right to—”
“Forget it, Judge Hershey. It is not important.”
“It is to me,” she said. “I opened my big mouth and I’m sorry. I apologize.”
Dredd looked her with no expression at all. “Do whatever you want. I have work to do. So do you.”
Dredd set his helmet on his head, flipped down the visor and walked away. Hershey wished she could rewind the morning, run it over again. Try not to screw it up, try to get it right.
She wondered which of the many Lawmasters was hers, tried to remember the number the maintenance sergeant had given her and couldn’t make a guess. Completely irritated with herself, she turned and started back inside. It was bad enough totalling a Lawmaster, even in the line of duty. But then you had to listen to everyone make the same, tired jokes about—
Hershey stopped. They walked out of the semi-darkness at the curve of the tunnel, four of them, visors down. They were dressed in combat armor, like every other Street Judge there, only it was not the same at all. Their stance, their manner, marked them as a breed apart—Judge Hunters, the men who watched the watchers, the Law within the Law.
As Hershey watched, too stunned to move, they drew their Lawmasters, made a tight left turn in perfect step. Everyone in the tunnel stood still. The Hunters walked past Hershey, past the other Judges—and stopped in front of Dredd.
No! Hershey tried to breathe, but her throat went tight.
“Judge Joseph Dredd?”
Dredd was the only Judge in the tunnel who had completely ignored the group. He turned and gave them a curious stare.
The Hunters took a step back. “Don’t move, Dredd.” The leader held his weapon to Dredd’s chest. Another stuck a paper in Dredd’s face.
“You are under arrest, Joseph Dredd. We have the right to confiscate your weapon. We have the right to remove your badge. Should you choose to resist, we have the right to—”
“I know your rights,” Dredd told him. “What is this, what’s the charge?”
“Murder.”
“What? Who did I kill?”
“We have the right to remain silent, we have the right to subdue you in any manner we may choose, including Greengas, Skidders or electronic restraint. Do you have any comments to make at this time, Joseph Dredd?”
“Yes,” Dredd said, “just one. You groons can go straight to hell.”
THIRTEEN
Fergie couldn’t think of any painless way to die. There were a lot of ways to do it. People did it all the time. There were illegal shops in LA if you knew where to go. If you had enough bucks, they’d fix you up fine. If you had a whole lot, you’d leave your miserable life feeling like a thirty-ton orgasm blasting off for outer space.